


The Agate Axe

by Warpony



Series: Feral Echoes [15]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Drow, F/F, Fledgling romance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, Soldiers, Volstrucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: An award ceremony in the Lucid Bastion goes awry...
Relationships: Leylas Kryn | The Bright Queen/Quana Kryn, Pre-Verin Thelyss/OC
Series: Feral Echoes [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711534
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	The Agate Axe

Verin pushed open the door of the waiting room, stopped and looked around the empty room.

It very much wasn't supposed to be empty.

"...Brun?" He asked quietly.

"Here."

The Echo Knight jumped just slightly and took a few steps forwards to look around behind the open door. He heaved out a sigh.

"You're sulking." The Taskhand said softly, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Brunnera was curled up as small as he could get behind the door. Not an easy thing considering the firbolg's towering height, bay roan fur and the freshly cropped cerulean blue hair. He stood out against the polished white stone walls and floors of the Lucid Bastion like a painted banner. His attempts to curl in on himself and hide not helped at all by the full set of luminous, obsidian plate armor he wore. The breastplate marked with the blazon of the Dynasty; the shape of the Luxon Beacon threaded with an infinity loop. Next to him on the floor was a large, double bladed war axe that seemed to be made of banded, blue agate stone polished to a high shine and honed to a razor's edge.

How the firbolg had managed to set himself down on the floor and propped against the wall was a mystery. Getting him up on his feet would be difficult in all that armor.

That very well might have been Brunnera's plan. His ears were pinned back flat and he was fiddling with his vambrace and the copper bracer he refused to take off even for this event. "Don't wanna... do this, Rin..."

The knight forgets sometimes that Brunnera is so young. Even by standards of drow and other races. The fighter's size and quiet bearing, his combat matured wisdom, all of it added up to a young creature often mistaken for a much older one. It took something like this to see the youth in the old soul blue eyes of the fighter, just short of pouting about how much out of control he was.

Verin sighed softly and moved over, nudging the axe aside so the Echo Knight could awkwardly lower himself down next to the fighter. His own obsidian, presentation armor making it a bit difficult to do so.

"I know, Brun. I know you hate all this attention. But you know it’s good. You deserve to be recognized. You earned this-" Verin reasoned.

"You were... there too, Rin." Brunnera argued sullenly.

"I also didn't throw myself on the Empire's warmage champion when Sunbreaker Olomon went down. And I didn't take charge of the front line when there was no one else there. Also I wasn't the one that made the clerics sweep the dead for survivors and resurrect more from both sides than I care to count." Verin argued.

Brunnera chuffed and pinned his ears further back. "You would have..."

"Possibly but _you did_ do those things, and with no ulterior motive at all and no orders given, I might add. I think that if that plate armor wasn't weighing you down you would have already escaped by now, but what you did is worth the attention. Far better than spending it on something brutal and uglier than saving the lives of countrymen and enemies as well." The knight smiled sadly at the firbolg's misery.

"They don't use my... name any more..."

"I know, Brun." Verin said softly, laying a hand on his forearm in a hopefully reassuring weight. "I know how that upsets you from your past-"

"Hate it..."

"I know but its good they aren't using your name. They would give it away to the masses for morale and publicity and you'd never be 'Brunnera' again. You can give 'the Axe' away to someone else some day and keep being Brunnera on your own." The knight reasoned.

The fighter's armor clunked sadly in a clear huff at Verin's reasoning and rational thinking, arms flopping across his breastplate with a clatter.

"It’s good for the people and the Aurora Watch to have a champion to look up to and idolize, especially in times of war. It makes them feel better knowing their some kind of... great warrior out there fighting for them." The knight urged. "Don't fret and sulk so much. All you have to do is look tall and official and let the Bright Queen award you a medal then we can leave. This'll blow over by the time we make it back to the front and that stupid Sunbreaker will be riling himself up to try and show you up somehow and win back all the attention from you. You're out of your mind if you think Olomon is going to live in your shadow for long. He hates you enough already that he owes you his life and command."

"Dick..." Brunnera muttered at the thoughts of the giant minotaur Umavi.

"Agreed." Verin chuckled then sobered a little. "... Brun... did Den Mirimm offer to consecute you? And you told them no?"

"Dunloch and Skysybil... asked... said don't want to..."

"Brunnera, why? So many would fall over themselves to be consecuted. And by one of the most powerful dens in the Dynasty. Why would you turn that down?"

The fighter sighed, "No innocent... child needs... my memories of... the String and the pits... Don't need memories... of the war..."

"... Some would consider it a boon to have such experience to fall back on."

"One life is... enough... I have the Nein... and you... what more could I hope for?" Brunnera rumbled, one ear swishing towards Verin. "No life could be better..."

The knight couldn't help smiling back despite a slight flush darkening the skin across his cheeks, making his pale white freckles stand out. Verin heaved a sigh and reluctantly levered himself up, bracing up on Brunnera to make the move easier.

Standing next to the sitting fighter let Verin have the rare opportunity to look down at the firbolg. "It’s about that time. At the very least the faster it'll be done."

Brunnera huffed and looked half ready to resist and just belligerently plant himself in place before giving an unhappy sigh and with a bit of leveraging got up to his feet with the armor rattling minimally. He heft up the stone blade axe with a mutter about hating axes and straightened himself up to salute Verin.

The Echo Knight stood at salute in return. Then frowned reaching out and pulling Brunnera's arm to himself, turning the vambrace so he could see the shiny metal covering his forearm.

He immediately recognized the two Giant runes scratched into the vambrace and glowing faintly. _Uvar_ and _Thutvli_. They glowed faintly blue with the imbued magic. Verin looked up at the firbolg with a sigh.

"Brun. This is ceremonial presentation armor."

"Oh no... Ruined... better go back to Ashguard... no good for the Queen..." Brunnera shrugged, lips pulling back in a mock grin.

"What did you even do this with..." Verin asked rhetorically, letting go of his arm and going to a bench in the corner to collect their helmets. He settled his own on and turned to bring the other to the fighter. Brunnera balked belligerently, pinning his ears and grumbling.

"Brun-" Verin started, exasperated.

"No... can't see in it... looks stupid... no..." The fighter growled with finality.

Verin looked at the helmet, an odd sculpted helm meant to look like a strange hybrid of a minotaur and tabaxi with a massive spartan crest of blue, purple and silver feathers and trimmed horsetail. Verin grimaced down at the snarling metal face of the helm.

"You know what, I agree. Let’s leave it." Verin set the helmet back on the bench and moved to stand next to the fighter. Brunnera gave him a thankful look then followed as Verin led the way through the Lucid Bastion. The closer they got to the throne room the more Brunnera seemed to wilt like a flower in blistering heat. As they moved through the halls they were joined by a scattering of Aurora Watch and courtiers, an assortment of different long traveled people from across Xhorhas here to see a slew of presentations and reaffirm their connections to the Dynasty. Verin recognized digintaries from Jigow and Charis, the Many Hosts and as far away as Vurmas in Eislecross, even one of the bugbear Wildmother druid devotees, there was a mix of strangers and traveling companions among the officials. It was quite the motley crew and honestly it gave Verin a ghost of a smile on his lips. Made him feel less out of place despite many of them having grim faces.

Brunnera glared mildly at them but stayed in step with Verin. The knight could hear the sound of the firbolg fidgeting and fussing irritability. Verin lightly brushed a hand over his arm.

"Brun. If it makes you feel better why not use _Uvar_? You can look forwards and see its all going to be fine." Verin suggested.

The firbolg flicked an ear and hummed a little, "Seems silly..."

"Is it if it helps you feel comfortable?" Verin challenged. Brunnera chuffed, a bit of a thoughtful look in his eyes. At the very least it distracted him a bit.

The drow Echo Knight watched Brunnera from the corner of his eye, his stomach tightening unhappily at seeing the unhappiness in the firbolg. When they came to the last door leading to the throne room Brunnera mustered up an emotionless mask. Lifting his head up in false pride, putting his shoulders back. Verin mimicked him, his far more practiced and military crisp.

The doors ground open. The knight and fighter waiting until the doors were fully open before setting off across the throne room in sharp lock step. Brunnera and Verin marched directly to the staggered dias. Climbing up each step with a mechanical stride until they crested the first platform.

The three raised diases towered on each side and high above them. Den Mirimm on the right, Verin spotted Skysybil's ancient goblin form perched on her seat and the gnoll Aurora Captain Dunloch Mirimm standing at her side. The gnoll actually winked at them.

Verin barely flicked his eyes towards the dias on the left, glad that Brunnera stood between him and the members of Den Thelyss, his own mother, Dietra, and elder brother, Essek. He just caught a bare flash of their faces but centered himself to look up towards the center risen platform. Den Kryn. Leylas sat in glittering, snow white and silver finery. Dusk Captain Quana's armor gleamed like raven feathers in reflective light.

Verin and Brunnera eased down to one knee on the platform. Settling dutifully in place. Verin could faintly hear the firbolg fidgeting, the plate armor softly rattling. He couldn't help but smile softly and twitched his hand.

Brunnera's eye slid towards him, one ear flicking. More than enough for Verin to know the firbolg was paying attention. Subtly Verin brushed his hand over his own forearm. Miming Brunnera using the runes he'd scratched into the armor as some kind of rebellious relief.

The fighter made no noise, thinking again. The misery of being back in this throne room, so close to the Xhorhaus but still so far from getting back to his family. The turmoil of that time rearing close but the new loyalty and comfort of staying at Verin's side turned his stomach all that much more.

Maybe a little comfort in knowing how the next few minutes would go would settle him down out of the spinning vortex of unsettled emotions and uncertainties. It felt like a waste of the carefully honed magic of ancient ancestors the fighter knew no other way. He felt a bit weak as he swept a hand over _Uvar_ , envoking the magic, feeling the now familiar crackle and sparking energy flowed through him. His cerulean eyes flooded pale blue as the Bright Queen rose to her feet and the firbolg was pulled into the fast flow of time, the next moments opening up in front of him.

It was nothing he expected and nothing Verin promised.

 _The future churned like a hurricane, the world ripping apart as a stranger in the small crowd of dignitaries broke away. A drow. Green jewel necklace. An illusion shattering away. Red vestiges. Scarred and tattooed arms. A medallion of the Cerberus Assembly. The vision flooded sickly green. Leylas Kryn staggering as festering caverns boiled open on her jaw and throat, yawning wider as flesh melted and sloughed off. The Bright Queen's acid scorched jaw, skeletal and eaten by the arcane, unhinged and blood turning black with toxin purging onto the floor in a frothy river before her body twisted and cracked and collapsed. Brittle bones splintering on impact, flesh falling in rotten heaps, sizzling on the polished stone..._

_Uvar_ faded, Brunnera's vision graying for a moment as his mind and body synced back together with the present. He sucked a breath, louder than normal but not loud enough to be heard by any other than Verin while the Bright Queen orated to the throne room. The knight flicked his eyes towards the fighter curiously.

The firbolg didn't bother to camouflage his movements as Brunnera's head jerked around to search the collected dignitaries, his breath coming in harsh pants. The sudden movement made Verin and Quana's attention snap to him in the otherwise still room.

Brunnera's eyes whipped back and forth, searching, a sickly green flicker at the throat of a plain looking drow woman. The drow was slowly edging her way through the dignitary group until she stood on the edge of the open throne room floor.

A noise like a wounded animal escaped Brunnera’s throat as the firbolg lurched up to his feet woodenly. The Bright Queen's speech stalled, through the pounding blood in his ears Brunnera faintly heard Verin's voice say him name. Nearly all eyes were on him.

All but the drow with the green jewel. Her eyes locked on the Bright Queen.

Brunnera heaved up the agate stone axe and surged into action, charging full stride across the raised platform and swinging the axe into position at his shoulder. The fighter activating _Thutvli_ , blue lightning sparking and charging to life on his arms, scorching the polished armor and crackling savagely on the axe blade. A battle cry roaring from his throat.

" _ **VOLSTRUCKER!**_ "

The assassin's eyes snapped to Brunnera, face twisting in a hateful snarl and concentration shattering. The illusion of an elegant lady drow falling away to a blonde, square jawed human male, a wine red uniform with the Assembly's emblem pinned over his heart. Black ink scrawled on his arms trying to mask the scars.

The whole of the throne room and everyone in it falling away as Brunnera surged towards the assassin with all the unstoppable force of a storm.

The Volstrucker rushed to complete his mission, trying to desperately draw together the arcane energy to pool roiling and toxic green between his hands, fingers twitching, lips muttering and the green jewel at his throat glowing venomously.

Brunnera leapt, pushing off the very edge of the platform. Suspended for just a moment mid air above the assassin. He swung the axe with every ounce of force in his being, aiming for the necklace and throat. The blade struck its target the instant the Volstrucker released the spell. The rune lightning arcing into the arcane acid, the power of two fundamentally different magics combining and detonating with a blinding flare and a deafening crack of thunder.

The sound echoed through the Lucid Bastion, leaving all in the room with their ears ringing painfully.

Verin scrubbed desperately at his face, trying to force his vision back from the dancing starbursts and black dots, a few tears streaking unbidden down his cheeks. The Echo Knight scanned rapidly. He wasn’t the only one staggered from the explosion. All around the throne room Aurora Watch soldiers shook their senses back or dragged themselves up from the floor where their push to action had been halted. Courtiers and dignitaries trying to rouse themselves and find one another again as their sight and hearing returned.

Dunloch Mirimm's fur was singed from lightning, rubbing roughly at his ears and eyes while clutching a broadsword. He'd been the closest behind Brunnera's charge, barely a step or two ahead of Verin himself.

Essek was tucked safely behind a shimmering shield, his eyes still shut and watering but his focus centered on the spell. Verin felt some instinctive, familial fear loosen and relax at spying his brother alive and unharmed.

Dusk Captain Quana squinted and blinked rapidly, staying firmly planted in front of Leylas. Putting herself between the Bright Queen and danger. A reactionary, arcane shield shimmering in front of the monarch and her partner.

Verin breathed seeing Leylas alive and unharmed before searching for Brunnera.

The polished stone of the floor where the fighter and mage met was cracked and seared black, likely never to be truly cleaned and polished to its original splendor again. Static electricity still crackled and sparked across the fissured stone.

The axe and lightning had done its job.

The Volstrucker lay on the floor, his torso cleaved nearly in two from the point of his collar bone, across his chest almost to his hip. The axe was still buried in his body and partially sunk into the stone of the floor. The human's organs and entrails spilled across the floor in steaming chunks of charred meat, blood pooling sluggishly, most of the body cauterized by the heat of _Thutvli's_ lightning. Verin could see the blackened bones of the mage's severed spine. The Volstrucker's head twitched a few times, one hand clawing weakly at the floor; eyes unseeing and throat bobbing as a frothy foam dribbled at the corner of his lips, strangling on a final few seconds of life before going still.

Across from the Volstrucker's corpse was a shivering heap of blackened armor, and bay and blue fur.

"No." Verin's voice barely a cracking whisper echoed loudly in the throne room. The knight rapidly stripping off his helmet and gauntlets, throwing them to the side with a clatter as he stumbled towards the crumpled form, he staggered and knelt next to the firbolg fighter. "No-no-no. Brun, no. Don't you dare do this to me-"

Verin shakily looked the fighter over, hands hovering and fluttering, flinching when he touched but staying connected despite small arcs of electricity crackling across the contact.

Brunnera was down on his side, nearly rolled onto his front, head twisted down towards his chest. One blue eye open and unseeing. The other and part of his face was horribly gouged, flesh flayed open from his eyebrow, through his eye, over his cheek. The wound hissing and sizzling with magic and was bleeding so heavily Verin couldn't even see how bad the damage truly was. The fighter's limbs were limp on the floor, like a puppet with its strings cut. Every few seconds Brunnera's ribs heaved; a horrible rattling, wet sucking sound coming with every desperate attempt to draw air. All the world he was like a partially gutted fish suffocating on the bank of a river. A brackish, wet sludge that was part blood part something unnatural foamed at his lips and pooled with his blood on the floor.

Verin set a shaking hand on his brow, as if afraid to hurt the firbolg fighter further. The knight was vaguely aware of a few others moving close. His instincts kicking in to protect his fallen friend and Verin lurched to crouch over Brunnera with a snarl. The sound died in his throat when he recognized Dunloch and Essek hovering, unsure and showing a range of concern.

"He needs a healer. A cleric." Verin choked out, honey eyes pulling away from his brother and the Aurora Watch captain to scan the room. "A cleric! Please!"

A flicker of movement caught his eyes and Verin's attention jerked towards the group of visiting dignitaries that was being ushered out of the throne room. The bugbear druid Verin had seen earlier had taken a few steps forwards before she stopped, hesitating when a soldier moved to block her. A pin on her robes the familiar symbol of the Wildmother.

"Please!" Verin begged. "Melora knows him! She's healed him before!"

"Let her come!" Dunloch barked, lips curling in a snarl. The bugbear druid nervously side stepped around the soldier and rushed over, coming to kneel next to Verin, she swiftly cast healing magic through Brunnera's crumpled frame but her face twisted.

"There's something eating him from the inside..." She said quietly, eyes sweeping back and forth worriedly. For a moment reaching towards the brackish blood instinctively but drawing back before touching it. "...some kind of terrible poison or acid..."

"What do you need to stop it?" Verin asked sharply.

She stuttered, chewing her lip with one of her tusks. "Greater Restoration but I don't have a diamond-"

Verin was already rushing to gently free Brunnera's arm from where it was wedged under him. Despite shaking hands Verin worked the mechanism on the Revivicuff, opening two chambers, freeing two chunks of diamond and pressing them into the druid's hand. Verin shuddered when he saw the blood streaked across his knuckles and wrists.

The druid swiftly started to weave the spell, clutching one of the diamonds in her hands, almost whispering a prayer into her cupped hands. A soft green glow of magic pulsed around her hands before she pressed the diamond to the side of Brunnera's neck above the heavy band of the Demarcate collar where it could touch skin instead of armor. The diamond crumpled into dust, the verdant magic seeming to sink into the firbolg's skin and fur before fading.

Brunnera's body shudderd violently, lurching and scrambling, Verin grabbed ahold of the firbolg's shoulder and tried to hold him still. The fighter heaved and gagged, vomiting up brackish blood and bile. Brunnera coughed and purged again, another soup of internal rot and decay poured out of him. A third heave only produced a thin wash of blood and stomach acid. The fighter slumped and shook hard enough his armor rattled, but the froth at his lips was gone and his breathing was steady if not still labored and painful.

The Wildmother druid continued to weave healing magic, pouring spell after spell into Brunnera. A floral scent accompanied the verdant glow and slowly the fighter was brought back from the brink. Verin held his breath until the firbolg blinked once slowly, managing to track the knight before his eye dropped closed in the heavy unconsciousness of a body in desperate need of healing.

Verin sat back on his heels, still shaking but for the moment reassured that Brunnera was closer to life than to death. He managed to look around and take in his surroundings.

The throne room had been cleared other than a few Aurora Watch. Dunloch was pacing a slow circle around them, growling at the Volstrucker's corpse every time he passed it. Essek was still there, much to Verin's surprise. His elder sibling sitting crosslegged with his eyes shut, as if meditating, he was bobbing like a cork in mid-air suspended by the gravity spell Verin remembered him learning when they were children. There was no sign of the rest of the courtiers or the dens. Quana and Leylas gone as well. Dunloch paused to speak to a soldier and sent him out the door as a runner.

The bugbear druid sat back, sweating and looking drained but curious as she handed back the second diamond. Verin took it with numb fingers. "It is the best I can do, he was very near death. He will need time and someone more practiced than I."

Verin nodded, his throat bobbing. "Thank you, lady-"

"Drinn." She replied.

"Thank you, Lady Drinn." Verin dipped his head. The knight started to speak but no voice came and he grit his teeth, a hand resting on the fighter's shoulder.

"You were right..." Drinn offered softly, hesitating a bit when Verin looked up towards her. "... the Wildmother does know him."

"A cleric of his party is a priest of the Wildmother." The knight nodded softly.

"She seemed... eager to help him." The druid said softly. "And... frustrated... that she could not do more... as frustrated as a goddess may be."

Verin nodded, "Perhaps it would be wise to ensure most of his healing is done by followers of the Wildmother."

"Perhaps." She agreed.

"Taskhand."

Verin looked upwards; Dunloch was standing just off to the side with the soldier he’d sent as a runner a step or two behind him. The normally well-groomed gnoll with haggard and ruffled. Clearly unsettled. Verin couldn’t blame him. It was more than a little troubling that an assassin had gotten so close as to be in the throne room. It was unlikely to be the last time some sort of attempt would be made. The knight couldn’t blame Dunloch’s short and distracted attitude, and honestly Verin felt to drained and worn thin from the whole ordeal to do much than blink tiredly up at the Aurora Watch captain. 

“They have a space for him to rest, far better here than dragging him back to the Keep to try and get any kind respite there.” The gnoll grumbled. 

“We’ll have to carry him. I don’t think he’s well enough to walk…” Verin muttered then tensed as Brunnera’s form shifted suddenly and was lifted off the floor. The knight coiled as if to try and leap forwards and pin the fibolg back down to the ground against whatever force was lifting him from the cracked stone floor. 

“I’ll carry him easily enough, Taskhand.” 

Verin glanced towards Essek. The Shadowhand’s face was calm, impassive, no emotion seemed to grace his features at the moment. He was standing firmly on the floor, covered by the curtain of his mantle save for one hand lifted to weave the gravity spell around Brunnera’s body. The knight swallowed then nodded tightly. “Thank you, Essek. Let me… let me get his armor off.”

Essek nodded curtly and lifted Brunnera to a more comfortable height. Verin got to his feet, gently pulling Drinn upright as well, before moving to start unbuckling the assorted clasps and buckles that held the armor all in place. Most of it was blackened and rendered apart in some places from the force of the magic colliding. Slow, steady drips of blood fell from some places and Brunnera’s ruined face as he hovered in the air. 

Dunloch stepped up on the other side. Between the two of them they managed to strip of the armor, leaving it on the floor, Brunnera left only in a blood soaked shirt and breeches. Essek’s fingers twisted and the blood and char that marked the clothes pulled away from the fabric and disappeared. Verin whispered another thanks to his elder brother for the use of the cantrip before the somber parade made it way out of the throne room and into the halls. More than a few Aurora Watch falling in around them but Verin paid no mind, more concerned with staying close to Brunnera as they moved. 

It seems that the Lucid Bastion had been thrown into complete lockdown. The halls were frighteningly empty. They made their way to a secluded wing and a large room, a pair of drow staff members that looked like Luxon clerics were waiting and helped settle Brunnera’s large frame on a bed. They moved to start working on the fighter before Verin stopped them. 

“Lady Drinn has so far done a fine job of his healing. I would appreciate if you listen to her assessment and follow her instructions.” The knight said firmly.

The young druid looked a little surprised when the two clerics hesitated then turned to her expectantly. Drinn straightened her back a bit and started to list off what she’d assessed and more confidently a slew of different herbs and materials for balms, one of the Luxon clerics swiftly went out to collect the materials and returned. Drinn, exhausted as she was, set right to work on mixing thick pastes and creams from the plants and water.

Verin was reluctant to leave Brunnera’s side but as the three clerics started their work the knight carefully approached his brother. Essek was the picture of the Shadowhand again, crisp and emotionless and hidden behind the curtain of his mantle. He lifted his chin up just a bit as Verin moved closer. 

“Essek… thank you for staying and helping.” The knight said quietly. Even if he hadn’t been shaken by everything that had just transpired Verin never knew how to speak to Essek. Especially in public. Verin had ached for the bond of brothers he’d so many other have for the majority of his life. He’d tried for years to earn it from Essek but had nothing to show from it. He was too stubborn and devoted to the hope of it to let go completely but never knew how to try and coax Essek into wanting the same.

“It’s very likely he just saved the Queen’s life. And what’s more Brunnera is a part of the Mighty Nein and I am their liaison. I would be remiss if I had not provided some kind of aid.” The Shadowhand responded in that smooth way that Verin had never been able to figure out how to read. The knight nodded and stayed next to Essek, arms crossed tight over his chest as he waited for the clerics and druid to finish doctoring the firbolg. 

Slowly the room emptied. Even Essek left with a formal little nod, until Verin was left alone with Brunnera’s sleeping form. 

Mechanically he stripped off his armor into a careless heap in a corner, used a bit of left over water to wash the blood from his hands and a few places where he’d smeared it into his hair or on his face without thinking. Slowly the knight moved to where one of the firbolg’s long arms hung over the side of the bed, his hand nearly resting on the floor. Verin carefully eased down, pressing his back to the bed and lifting the fighter’s arm so it lay across his chest, the large hand slack in his lap. Verin pressed a cheek into the crook of Brunnera’s elbow and tried to center himself again. Little tremors and shivers rippled through his frame making Verin cling to the arm more firmly. 

He must have fallen asleep. Hours or maybe days. When he opened his eyes and found Quana Kryn sitting in a chair, waiting patiently. Verin lacked the energy to speak, just blinked slowly at her.

Quana sat up a bit, straightening herself. After a moment of silence she spoke quietly, “He’ll live.”

Verin nodded but hearing it let something terrified and tight in his heart loosen. 

“We owe him much. The Dynasty and her people… _I_ … I owe him everything…” The Dusk Captain let out a long sigh. “I cannot… begin to know how to repay him…”

The knight let out a tired, sad sound. “He’d never ask for anything.”

Verin’s arms tightened just a little on Brunnera’s arm, taking comfort in the warmth that came from it. Life. Warmth meant life.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, this one got long. I considered breaking it up into a two chapter piece. 
> 
> The rune 'Thutvli' is not 5e canon and was named by a friend of mine who has a crazy awesome knack for runes and was kind enough to help me mock up some names for fake ones. [ TheOriginalSilvertongue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOriginalSilvertongue). Go check them out, they write AMAZING Marvel and Loki based works!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for taking the time to read!


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